Her husband was prouder of her every day. The storm burst upon them in its fury. Most of my people are upstairs dressing for dinner. She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. ” His voice conveyed studied moderation. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. “I did not,” Anna answered. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver.
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